


A Touch In The Dark

by Cluelessly



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angstshipping - Freeform, Bad Writing, Bakura - Freeform, Boredom, Childhood Trauma, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, God I love bakura, Hallucinations, I'm not even into angstshipping, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Ryou Bakura - Freeform, Serious, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tendershipping, Trauma, after main story, domino city
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cluelessly/pseuds/Cluelessly
Summary: For a time, after the Final Duel, Ryou found himself delighted at the prospect of his new life. However, the humdrum of everyday life  has only served to bore the teen. Yet, the wish for a return to the excitement of that old horror story has led him down a darker road than anyone would've wished upon themselves. Can Marik help Ryou to find peace with himself? Or will Ryou succumb to his demons?





	A Touch In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a fan-fiction or a story before hhhh I'm sorry if this is really bad!

The heavens sighed upon the world a gentle rainstorm. A blanket of white mist coiled around the ankles of passer-byes, painting the black of dusk a faded blue. The stars were sunk into the ebon sky above, and the moon was laying on her back, serenaded by twilight’s berceuse. Seeing the downpour, Ryou made sure to grab his umbrella before leaving.

Amber streetlights flitted on and off, casting the empty Domino streets into brief moments of darkness. Despite the solitude of his nightly walks, they had become a kind of relief for the pale-haired teen. The edginess, the jitters which latched onto Ryou in the grasp of midnight was his reprieve from the ennui that had settled after the Final Duel.

_“Bakura! Bakura!”_  
_From somewhere in the darkness, Ryou heard someone calling his name. He felt a pressure within his skull, a pulsating headache pushing his eyes from his sockets as his eyelids burst open. Yugi, Honda, Anzu, Jonouchi… All crowded about him, shaking him awake._  
_“He’s alive!” Jounouchi informed the rest, everyone’s faces lighting up at the news._  
_“Hey guys…” Ryou mumbled weakly, before his eyes widened in realisation. “Is- Is it over?!”_  
_Yugi and Anzu, with smiles, exchanged proud looks, and nodded.  
_ _Ryou felt at his chest, and feeling no ring, smiled._

Things since then, however, had not been as wonderful as Ryou had expected. Sure, in the beginning of his new life, everything had been amazing- his soul no longer surrendered to unconsciousness at the whims of The Spirit, his friends had begun to trust him- even Honda, who had always been most suspicious of him. Yet, overtime, the mundanity of everything had become terribly boring. Ryou, albeit trusted, had never fully become a part of Yugi’s group. He didn’t have the same obsession with Duel Monsters, and his timid personality made it difficult for him to relate with anyone other than Yugi. But that had become his only issue in life. Gone was the excitement of his horror story. Gone was The Spirit.

Ryou sighed into the night, and his breath painted the air silver.

As he rounded the corner, he came to a stop. Domino museum stood, foreboding and ancient. Ryou had come to the building a multitude of times, however had never set foot inside of it since The Spirit's passing. Ishizu’s exhibit held the Ring now, and despite the tedium of his every-day life, Ryou feared nearing the artefact would return things to how they once were.

Or did he?

In the past, he felt powerful. Sure, the power was never truly his. His friends had been ripped from his life, and Ryou was merely a host for the parasite lurking within; and yet, Ryou couldn’t help but look fondly back on the few times The Spirit may have been ‘kind’. The coach, Mr Karita, had been a wicked man. Ryou was sure he would've developed into a bully towards him- however, the coach had only tugged at his hair- demanded it be cut- before The Spirit, in retaliation, took his soul. The Spirit had always claimed he was merely paying his 'rent', and a part of the teen truly wanted to believe that The Spirit had only been misguided due to some dark influence. Perhaps that was wishful thinking on his behalf.

That wasn't the only reason, however.

It was no secret that he and his father's relationship was... Rocky at best. Ryou hardly ever spoke to his father, not since the deaths of his mother and sister. His father didn't seem too interested in his son, and Ryou only reciprocated in that feeling. It seemed too late to patch things up, and Ryou had already accepted such. The two rarely bumped into each other anyway, despite his father working at the museum, although Ryou had to admit he had been trying to avoid him by staying as far away from the looming landmark as he could. This late, though... He was sure that his father would be asleep.

Swallowing the lump of fear which had lodged itself within his throat, he took quivering steps towards the entrance. As he neared, the museum seemed only to grow taller, looming over his scrawny self. A shadow fell over the steps as he climbed, the lights inside dim and fading, casting darkness along Domino.

Inside, the half-lidded receptionist sat gazing distantly at Ryou. She seemed to not even register his presence until he spoke up.  
“Ummm.. Hello- I’d like to see the Egypt exhibit…”  
Nodding, the receptionist wordlessly handed him a leaflet with a map to the exhibit. Ryou shifted awkwardly on the spot, expecting her to at least wish him a good time, but she’d already lifted her focus from him to the computer. He moved on.

The corridors were long and winding. The walls raised the ceilings high, and stretched the rooms endlessly as Ryou made his way through puddles of shade and muted lights. The deeper he delved, the more archaic things became. He knew he was close when the black, wasted corpses of Egypt’s mummified became frequent. He was really doing this- he was going to see it this time. He felt numb as he continued onwards.

Squeezing himself through a narrow hallway, Ryou entered into the largest room of them all; the amber-lit gallery folded itself into a higher, intimidating ceiling, with chiselled slabs leaning against the limestone walls in their tall, glass cabinets, engraved with messages of both the weary past and frightful future. A statue of Anubis, larger than it had any right to be, stood in the middle with opal eyes glaring down at the teen. Light bounced from its ebony forearms against the abundance of relics displayed: Sphinxes with ruby eyes sneering at Ryou, stiff golden pottery and jewellery blinding the teen.

As he delved further, a feeling of dread suddenly pressed into Ryou’s heaving chest.

He told himself everything was fine- The Spirit wasn’t here. No one was here. He was alone. He is safe. But, pushed forward by the leering antiques, a fierce paranoia wriggled beneath his skin, stirring his insides.

And there it was.

The Ring.

Right before him, a display case carved into the walls shoved into Ryou’s face a great sarcophagus, beholder of the Millenium Items. Thrust right in the middle, eye-level with Ryou, was The Ring. The great tormentor of his youth. The source of all evil.

It lay lifeless. Entirely too still. Suspiciously too still.

Fear gripped Ryou by the heart, a hundred slender fingers prickling at his skin, whispers dragging him towards the display. Tears fought to break free of his eyes, Ryou’s gaunt face turning black with terror. His feet pushed at the rug, and his hands sought at his chest as he drew panicked, futile lungfuls of air. Shadows seemed to haul him towards the ring, lashing him with whips of fear. His vision blurred into a violent, bloodshot red, images of high shadows and huddled lambs digging into his sockets. A hideous, wicked laughter filled his ears- cruel, continuous. It pounded him again and again, mocking him, stealing him back to the past. Ryou let rip a horror-filled, bloodcurdling scream, erupting from deep within his throat.

"The Spirit. The Spirit!" He cried to anyone who would listen, eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

“Bakura?”

A voice broke into his horror as Ryou yanked himself back and onto the floor with a whimper of fear. He felt so stupid- a fool, as his vision crowded with darkness. His mind surrendered to his nightmares as he slipped away, turning limp and unconscious.

Bewildered, Marik rushed to the aid of the teen. Even like this, his eyes remained scrunched in agony, dark circles painting his cheeks and his hair struck with stress. Marik leaned towards his chest, and hearing the rapid, unsettling pulse of Ryou's heartbeat, sighed in relief. He'd heard him screaming about The Spirit, but as Marik spun his head, he saw the ring lay still in its tomb.

"Why did you come here...?" Surely Ryou must've known how he'd react.

Sliding his arms around the pale-haired teen, Marik found him to be surprisingly light. Biting his lip, he carried Ryou away from The Ring.

“I’ll.. Take you to my office…”


End file.
